


A Tale of Justice

by masochisticmasturbation



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, i'll update more tags when i update chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 18:04:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17902943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masochisticmasturbation/pseuds/masochisticmasturbation
Summary: “Justice is in short supply this side of the mountains. There has been none for Elia, Aegon, and Rhaenys.”- Oberyn Martell to Tyrion LannisterIn which all three get some sort of justice. By telling their tale.Or:A telling of the story of Elia, Rhaegar, and Lyanna. The start of the end.





	A Tale of Justice

**_I: A Bridge Burned_ **

 

_“No one knew Elia. She was to be forgotten in history by those who sought to bring her down. I remember Elia as the best woman I knew. I would spend my life trying to find a woman as kind as my sister.” - Prince Oberyn Martell._

_“Elia’s name was to be besmirched by those who disliked her: Cersei, Jon Connington, Kevan, even the young dragon Viserys Targaryen. But I knew her to be the kindest woman I had grown to know besides mine own mother. Westeros would forget her, or remember her as a frail, plain girl, a description my own sister added to, out of jealousy. But I would remember her as a kind woman. I would remember her for her laugh.” - Ser Jaime Lannister._

* * *

 

“And where are we going now, Mother?” Huffed young Oberyn Martell as he looked out of the small window in the carriage.

“Casterly Rock,” she answered, trying to not look as bored as she felt. The rough ride was making her sick. Was it making her frail daughter sick too? She had thought concernedly.

“What for?” Elia asked kindly. She, like her brother, stared outside of the small window. Rare it was for her to be allowed to travel outside of Dorne because of her frail nature. She wanted to absorb all of the new sights and smells as much as she could.

The two youngest Martells had been up and down Westeros without an explanation from their mother. Elia had been paraded in front of many of the young heirs of the lands they had visited. Oberyn and Elia had rightfully assumed that their mother was trying to marry Elia off but apparently had not offered Elia’s hand yet. It looked like none of the heirs in the many cities they’d visited were not good enough in their mother’s eyes. Or Oberyn’s eyes, as he helped to drive away any man who should dare to try to take his sister away from him.

There _was_ one...who was good enough. Baelor Hightower. Oberyn liked him, their mother liked him, Elia fawned over him and was half in love with him by the end of their time there. However an awkward fart and a funny nickname from Oberyn ruined that betrothal.

“More like _whom_ for?” Oberyn snickered at his sister, grinning as she gave him a warm smile.

Their mother, Sarella, tutted at her children. “Stop that,” she commanded. “I had a dear friend in Casterly Rock, Joanna,” she looked down at the mention of her name, sadness overcoming her. “She’s recently passed in the childbed and I’ve come to give my respects to her family and to ask her Lord husband to fulfill a promise that she and I once made.” She critically said.

Oberyn and Elia’s brows furrowed as they looked to each other. This was the first they had heard of their mother befriending a Lannister, and the first they’d heard of this...promise. The young Prince and Princess sat silently as their thoughts aligned. Surely their mother was trying to create a marriage agreement between Jaime Lannister and Elia, but the longer time spent on this expedition, the more their mother spoke about marrying Oberyn off as well. The talk of it increased the closer they got to Casterly Rock.

In Sarella’s eyes, it was a given. Jaime and Cersei Lannister were twins, Oberyn and Elia, though a year apart, acted as twins. They were the same sides of different coins. Cersei would come to Dorne and become a Princess with Oberyn and Elia would live at Casterly Rock and become a Lady. A perfect marriage alliance for _both_ sides. Each House would be giving and taking something. An _equal_ balance. The Dornish way.

Upon arriving at Casterly Rock, the Martells and their party were welcomed by a few guards and some lady’s maids.

“Lord Tywin sends his regrets, m’lady,” one Lannister man informed her. “He is still in grief. He has sent us in his stead to show you to your rooms.” He was taken aback by the bright colors of the Martell party.

“I’d like to send Lord Tywin my regards, and a chance to speak with him. May you send word to him of my inquiries?” Sarella asked confidently. “I do not mind waiting for his grief, I respect the mourning period,” she added, hoping this gains her favor with the ever prickly Tywin.

“Of course,” the Lannister guard nodded.

“We have brought spices and gifts from Dorne,” Sarella gestured to three carts behind the royal carriage.

“Thank you, Princess Sarella. The lady’s maids will take you to your rooms.” The lead guard grabbed his men and directed some of the Martell guards with the various goods.

A few lady’s maids, dressed in Lannister red, giggled when they saw Oberyn, clearly his reputation preceded him. Oberyn, for his flirtatious nature, wriggled his eyebrows at the women. He began to speak to them, knowing his Dornish accent made women weak.

Elia watched her brother with a smile, shaking her head slightly. _He can never keep his snake in his breeches,_ she thought to herself as she walked past her fawned over brother.

* * *

They were a week into their visit at Casterly Rock and Sarella still had not met with Tywin. Nor had his children come to greet her Oberyn and Elia, as tradition dictates. Sarella was beginning to grow impatient, and insulted. _Who the hell does this...kitten think he is? Lions may roar, but snakes can bite. And our bites are lethal,_ Sarella angrily thought as she rapped her nails against the small ledge in her window of her rooms.

Oberyn and Elia, for the most part, did not care to meet the ‘Golden twins’ as Casterly Rock declared them to be. They were perfectly fine to roam the city in their own ways. Oberyn, roaming the women and bedding a number of them. Elia, walking amongst the people and sitting by the cliffs and taking in the sea air.

But the time would come when each Martell would be approached by a Lannister. In good terms, and in bad.

First was Elia and Jaime.

Elia sat on a rock, a safe distance away from the ending of the cliffs. She did not want to trip and fall to her death in the sea, but she did want to watch the sunset and feel the sea’s breeze. She leaned back on her arms, allowing the sun’s rays wash down on her. _The sun is brighter, and stronger, in Dorne,_ she mused. _This is not the true sun._ She missed Dorne, and its sun. She could not wait to go back home and bask fully in its rays. She felt as if the sun in Dorne gave her strength, as if to remind her of where her people come from and that she, like all of House Martell, have the sun and fire as their life’s blood. The sun, though the same one throughout all of the kingdoms, is its best in Dorne.

Jaime watched the Dornish princess smile at the sun. _I am to marry her?_ He thought. B _ut she is much older than me...and I love Cersei. Sure the Princess is beautiful, but she is no Cersei. A true woman, a Lannister, my twin, and my love._ Elia was Cersei’s complete opposite, it seemed. With Elia’s dark hair, olive complexion, and brown eyes versus Cersei’s light eyes, pale skin, and golden hair. Cersei was hardened and did not take much to pleasing people. She looked down upon anyone who was not high born. Whereas, Elia was kind hearted. Or so Jaime had heard. The servants tell him that the Dornish woman walks amongst the streets of Casterly Rock and Lannisport, smiling and purchasing goods whenever she can. She’d once given a small orphan the Dornish veil she wore over her face to protect her frail health. The people liked her well enough, but not enough to raise the ire of their Lady Cersei.

He decided to try to get to know her. If only to ease his curiosity of the Dornish people, he later told himself.

“Princess Elia, it is not safe to be on the cliffs,” Jaime’s voice spoke confidently.

Elia turned back to see the young lion, wearing the signature Lannister red garb. She smiled kindly. “I am fine where I am at,” her voice accented her joy of being in the sun. “I am at a safe distance away from the edge but not far away enough where I cannot see the sun.”

Jaime was puzzled. “Why are you looking at the sun?” _It was just the stupid sun. And it wasn’t even as strong as it could be, being in the middle of a Winter._

“I miss it,” she said simply. “The sun is much stronger in Dorne. And I could lay in my thinnest dress and feel warmth. If I were to wear my thinnest dress here, I would surely catch ill,” she laughed, gesturing to her thicker clothing to protect her from the breezes. She turned back to her sunbathing. “But you are not here to make small talk, no? You are here to see if it’s true that we might be married.” She smirked.

Jaime frowned. He wanted to have the upper hand. His father always taught him to have the upper hand. _Cersei always was better with listening to Father’s words,_ he thought to himself.

“Yes,” the heir to Casterly Rock finally said. “Are we?” He asked, walking over to her and taking a seat near her.

“I do not know,” Elia answered honestly. “Would you like to be?” She asked him, her head turning to address him. “What would the young Jaime Lannister want to do most with his life?” She reframed her question.

Too many things, the young Lannister thought to himself. _...marry Cersei...become a knight...take up the White in the Kingsguard...be the Lord of Casterly Rock...all things he could not do._ Some of his wants contradict one another. “I...it is not my say,” he answered. It was true. It was not his say. It is his father’s say to do with his son what he wanted Jaime to do.

Elia laughed, making Jaime blink in surprise. _She has a kind laugh,_ Jaime thought. _Not like Cersei...her laughs are always mocking. Princess Elia’s laugh is more...warming. Like...Mother’s used to be,_ his brows knitted in pain as he thought of his mother.

“Lord Jaime,” Elia spoke, distracting him from his sorrow. “Think not of anything...not of being heir, not of any obligations to your family,” she spoke softly as she closed her eyes. “If you could do anything with your life, with no consequences, what would you do?”

Jaime sat for a while and thought on his answer, the silence comforting to him. He stared out at the seas and watched as the waves crashed, listened to the seagulls calls and the water’s whooshing, smelling the salty air. He sat silently with the Princess of Dorne, both watching as the sun lowered. After some time, his ears picked up the gentle humming of Elia, an unknown tune to him. Her humming stilled his mind, and he realized he had the answer all along.

“To do it all,” he finally said. “To have all I want.”

Elia laughed, another kind laugh. “Ambitious one, you are,” she smiled. “I have no doubt that you could do that. You have the lion’s blood, the banking, and the strength of a Lannister,” she looked to him. “You are young...you still have time to decide what you want.”

“I am a man,” Jaime said stubbornly, his golden brows stern.

“You are a man,” Elia repeated amusedly, in kind nature. She looked again towards the skyline and took in a deep breath, letting it out through her nose. “Time changes a man,” she said gently. “One day a man may want one thing one day, and another one night. You may find your desires will change as your experiences shape you,” she advised him wisely, thinking on her brother Oberyn and how his desires changed the more and more action he took.

Jaime nodded, then sighed. “I don’t want to marry you,” he blurted. His eyes widened at the words that escaped his mouth without his permission. He couldn’t face Elia’s reaction so he looked down. Bracing himself for either her yell or her sadness, he shut his eyes. To his surprise, Elia laughed. Not her soft laugh, no. A loud laugh, echoing off of the cliffs. " _Not ladylike," Cersei would say._ But this loud laugh warmed Jaime’s heart. _It seems that Princess Elia hides some of herself,_ Jaime laughed in his mind. He enjoyed watching someone not uphold to the standards of what high born people were supposed to act like. Like his mother did.

He joined in her laughter, reveling in it. His deepening voice and her musical chimes created a strange noise in the setting sun, a noise not heard of from the House Lannister since the Lady Joanna’s death.

Elia’s laughs chimed down, only a giggle slipping out here and there. “Forgive me, Lord Jaime,” she smiled, her lips holding tightly to hold back her laughter.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Jaime waved her off. “I should be thanking you,” he admitted.

Elia’s jovial smile turned to one of curiosity as her eyebrows furrowed. “Whatever for?”

“I have not been able to laugh since Mother’s passing,” he told her. “It was my favorite thing about her, her laugh,” he laughed ruefully. “It seemed to light up even the darkest of chambers in the castle. It lit up Father’s face. It brought life to this rock. When she...was lost,” he struggled to find the words to describe his mother’s death. “It seemed like it plunged Casterly Rock into darkness. Laughing was not a luxury I permitted myself, nor could I, with her gone,” he confessed. “So I must thank you, Princess Elia,” he stared into her brown eyes, trying to show her his honesty and warmth, like she did for him. “For making me laugh and bringing me my own light. If only for a little,” he turned to her and tried to give her the same kind smile that she gave him.

Elia blinked at his honesty. She did not know what to say. Her parents were still alive, and she did not know of much death in her life, besides of talk of her own and the deaths of her older siblings that never got to be. She did not know of the Lannister’s loss. She could not even begin to know it.

“You must be your own light, Jaime,” she said. “It does not dwell to live in the darkness, it will take you eventually. You must be strong and continue on. If only to make sure you fulfill your mother’s dreams of you,” her mouth spoke without her mind thinking. She did not know where these words came from, only that they did and they seemed right.

“But I know not of Mother’s wishes for me,” Jaime frowned.

“You do,” Elia smiled.

“I don’t,” Jaime protested, a sliver of the child he was coming out of him.

Elia laughed her kind and soft laugh once more. “Yes, you do. Your mother, above all else, would want your happiness. For that is what makes mothers smile. The happiness of their children,” she spoke maternally. The young Dornish princess always had that factor within her, the love of children. “You continue on by being happy, knowing that your mother would be happy with that.”

Jaime smiled at Elia, knowing her word were true. “If we _are_ to be married, I am glad to say that I would find a friend in you,” he admitted. “You are a kind woman, Princess Elia. And that is all a man can ask for in a wife,” he reached for her hand and laid a kiss on her knuckles.

Elia’s lips lifted upwards. “Spoken like a true man,” she joked.

Elia and Jaime continued to watch the setting sun in peace, with Elia’s occasionally humming reaching both of their ears. A foundation of friendship was beginning to settle between the Princess of Dorne and the heir to Casterly Rock. A foundation of friendship that would last for years...a foundation of friendship that Jaime would soon betray.

* * *

So Elia and Jaime began a friendship.

If only that was true for the Prince of Dorne and the Lady of Casterly Rock.

Cersei refused to meet with any of the ‘Dirty Dornish’ as she took to calling them. Especially not that wench Elia who was to steal her beloved brother from her. _Jaime is mine, not hers,_ Cersei thought obsessively. _She thinks she can win the love of the people of Casterly Rock and Lannisport by giving baubles to children and singing songs? She thinks her stupid Dornish accent can sway Jaime? That her ugly brown skin is any match for my creamy skin? To be a_ Lannister _? She knows nothing of what it takes to be a lion, that stupid snake._ She marched up and down the library in her childhood home, wearing a hole in the expensive imported carpet laying on the floor. _And her stupid mother wants to marry me off to that so called Viper, Oberyn? He already has a rumored bastard in that sandy land of theirs! And I am to be_ Rhaegar’s _! I am meant to be a princess, then a Queen, not a_ false _princess,_ she sneered in her mind.

Or so she thought.

“None of the Princesses are false, my Lady,” Oberyn raised an eyebrow as he stepped into the fairly large room. He saw the young Cersei standing before him, in a long dress of Lannister red and gold, in a Southern fashion.

Cersei stopped in her tracks. She hadn’t realized she had spoken out loud. _This snake chooses to challenge me? He will learn how lions roar._ “Oh?” She tilted her head. “Then explain to me how none of your Princes or Princesses of Dorne can become Kings or Queens of Dorne,” she hissed.

Oberyn narrowed his eyes, accepting the bait knowingly. “Out of respect to the Crown and to ensure that Westeros only had one King,” he explained easily, smirking at her.

She did not like his smile, she decided. She knew it was a trained smile. One that made many women drop their dresses for him. She would not fall for it. “Precisely,” Cersei smiled ruefully. “ _One_ King,” she stated. “False Princes,” she reminded the Dornish man as she looked at him pointedly.

“Not false,” Oberyn laughed. “If we were false, then why has every Targaryen since the absorption of Dorne into the Seven Kingdoms referred to the ruling family of Dorne as Princes or Princesses?” His fingers traced the spine of a large book by his side.

Cersei stared at his fingers as the temperature in the room changed. She blinked, trying to shake off the feeling coming across her. He was seducing her. She could tell.

“Dorne was never conquered by any Targaryen. We never bent the knee, unlike former King...Loren Lannister was it?” Oberyn tilted his head, mocking the Lady Lannister. He walked closer to her as he spoke. “Unbowed, unbent, and unbroken,” he repeated his houses’ words.

Cersei stared at his mouth, enjoying the way his tongue shaped words, sounding so different than the common accent she was used to hearing. She shook her head, trying to remain strong.

“That is why we kept our royal titles,” the young Prince of Dorne continued. “The Targaryens respected us for our strength and feared us because we would not bend as easily as all of the other Kingdoms did, as your ancestor did.” He raised a cocky eyebrow at her yet again.

“How dare you insult the Lannister name,” Cersei hissed once more as she tried to take a swipe at the young viper. Her breath caught in her throat as he caught her arm. No one ever caught her arm.

“I did no such thing, Lady Cersei,” he laughed as he continued to hold her small arm. “You took the assumption that I did. I was merely reminding you of a historical fact.”

Cersei wrenched her arm away from Oberyn’s hand. “I am not yours to touch. I am to be Prince Rhaegar’s wife and queen,” she confidently told him. _Damn it! Father told me to never breathe a word of this to anyone!_ She frowned.

Oberyn leaned his head back in a bellowing laugh. “You? Marry Prince Rhaegar?” He laughed yet again. “Has the Prince been informed of this? Or better yet, has the Mad King Aerys been informed of this?” He snickered. “I would be sure they would love to know about the impending nuptials.”

“Don’t you dare mock me!” Cersei squealed, stepping forward to bare her teeth.

Oberyn chuckled once more. “Look! The little pussy bares her tiny teeth to a snake.” He found this conversation amusing.

In this next instance, Cersei could not remember what came over her. She just knew she was furious, had never been spoken to in this way, and would not allow herself to be undermined.

She grabbed the youngest Martell prince.

She grabbed him and kissed him. A biting hard kiss.

Oberyn’s eyes widened as he placed his hands on the young cub’s shoulders and gently pushed her away. “Have you gone mad, Lady Cersei?”

Cersei’s face was horrified as she realized what she had done. “I-I,” her hand covered her mouth in shock. “I must be mad,” she agreed.

Oberyn stared at her for a moment and then laughed once more. “Then we shall forget what has happened as only the nightmare of a madwoman,” he suggested slyly.

“Never speak of this,” Cersei hissed at him.

“Never,” Oberyn smiled, lifting his hands up in surrender.

“I hate you,” she said like the child she was.

“I know,” Oberyn smiled.

* * *

And that was that.

For the most part.

As we all know, the Prince and Princess of Dorne wanted to visit the so called “monster of the Rock” as Cersei reminded them. So the young Lady and the young Lannister Lord took the Dornish people to little Tyrion’s nursery.

We know the story.

Cersei unveiled Tyrion, much to Oberyn’s disappointment and Elia’s disgust.

_This is a baby,_ Elia thought. _Not a monster._

Her brother vocalized as much.

Cersei disliked their reactions. “And he killed my mother,” she said, reaching forward to pinch little Tyrion in between his legs.

Baby Tyrion clearly disliked this, screaming out in a way that no one in the world had ever heard a baby scream.

“Let go of him!” Elia yelled. She looked as if she was about to take Tyrion in her arm and take him away from the true monster that was Cersei.

Oberyn looked towards his sister and tensed. Elia was passive...to an extent. Piss her off enough and all Elia will have to offer is venom. If he did not reign his sister in, it would ruin the already delicate relationship between Dorne and the Lannisters. “Cersei,” he spoke in the voice that he knew weakened the young Cersei. “Let the little boy go,” he tried.

Cersei didn’t pay attention. She was staring down at her mother’s killer. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Everyone says he will die soon. I hope they are right. He should not have lived this long,” she frowned. _Why_ did _he live this long? He should die. He_ needs _to die. He killed Mother,_ she thought to herself. (Underlined portion taken from Game of Thrones.)

Jaime watched Elia and Oberyn, watching as the normally calm Elia grew more and more enraged the longer Cersei pinched Tyrion’s cock. He watched as Oberyn looked towards his sister, almost in a panic, his hands outstretched, about to hold the Princess back. He could feel the young Viper in himself give way to the Black Widow in his sister. He was also displeased that Cersei was torturing their little brother. He didn’t agree with Cersei’s opinion that Tyrion killed Mother. He also felt pained at Tyrion’s screams. “Cersei, let him go,” he commanded.

“No,” Cersei’s eyes had a glint to them...almost...a mad glint.

“Cersei, enough,” Jaime’s voice deepened as he grabbed his sister’s hand and pulled her fingers from Tyrion’s body.

Tyrion continued to scream, even louder, if possible as the blood rushed back to his cock, causing another wave of pain in his small body.

Elia couldn’t stand it anymore. She weaved past her brother’s outstretched arms and grabbed the youngest Lannister lord in her arms. She ‘shh’ed the small baby and rocked him in her arms. She began to softly sing an old Dornish lullaby that her mother once sang to her and Oberyn when they were babes. She brushed back his dirty blonde locks, soothing him. She felt relief when his cries quietened some.

Cersei shook her head as she heard the Dornish whore’s hums. “What are you doing?” She growled. “That monster does not deserve compassion. Give him back!” She yelled, her arms outstretched to grab the little gremlin back.

“I will not give him back to a monster,” Elia’s dark eyes glowered down at the blonde. “The only true monster in this room is _you_ ,” she hissed. “He is but a babe, selfless in his actions. For you to treat him in such way is repugnant and disgusting,” she shifted Tyrion in her arms so that his large head sat on her left shoulder as she patted his small back, consoling the babe once again as he began to heighten the volume of his cries from hearing his sister’s voice.

“How dare you speak to me like this? Me, a _Lannister_ ,” Cersei’s eyes were wide in disbelief. She couldn’t believe she was being spoken to like this. “You are nothing more than an ugly Dornish whore. You have no right to speak to me as such,” she sneered, moving closer to her.

Jaime and Oberyn looked at one another and nodded, silently (and quickly) telling the other what to do. They briskly moved into position towards their respective sisters, making sure this didn’t lead to fists exchanging.

Jaime stood in front of Cersei, not blocking her from speaking to Elia, but in front of the Martell woman enough that Jaime could catch his sister if she decided to jump.

Oberyn stood behind his sister and placed his hands on his arms gently, rubbing her arms up and down in a calming motion. "Calm yourself, sister," he whispered against her hair. 

Elia ignored her brother. She raised her eyebrow at the young girl, she leaned as close as she dared with the young Tyrion in her arms. “I’ve more of a right than you,” she hissed. “My family _kept_ their ancestral titles, _your_ family bowed and bent the knee and _lowered_ your class standards,” Elia snarled and reminded the young cub. “As time goes on and we are recorded in history books, I will always be _Princess_ Elia Martell, you will always be _Lady_ Cersei Lannister. Know your place in time, my _Lady_ ,” she stressed the word once more. She turned her attention on to the calming baby Lannister. His eyes were beginning to droop, much to her surprise. She didn’t know how a babe could fall asleep in such a loud argument.

Jaime grabbed Cersei’s arm and pulled her along, dragging her away from Tyrion’s room.

“Jaime, let me go. She will not hold a Lannister,” she sneered as she tried to fight her brother’s surprisingly strong grip.

“Oh, _now_ you consider Tyrion a Lannister?” Jaime feigned confusion. “I only heard you refer to him as a monster, a murderer, a killer; I could go on, Cersei,” he sneered back at his twin. “Do you consider Tyrion a Lannister and want him out of Princess Elia’s arms or do you hate his existence and want him dead. You cannot have both.” He told her.

Cersei was shaking with anger, and a bit of fear. “How dare you?” She growled.

“How dare _I_? Cersei, you were torturing him!”

“ _Torturing_ _him_? He tortured our mother until she _died_ , or did you forget so easily?”

Jaime was livid. Why would Cersei be so cruel? They both had the same mother, spent the same amount of time with their mother, how could she think that he could forget about Joanna Lannister? “I could never forget her,” he turned to his sweet sister, enclosing her in a corner of the large castle of the Rock. “I fall asleep to her screams echoing in my head and wake to your screams in my head,” he revealed. “For you to assume otherwise is insulting to not only me, but the Lannister name. And you know what Father says about insulting our Lannister name,” he gave her a pointed look. “Yes, Tyrion killed our mother, but Tyrion is also a _Lannister_ ,” Jaime stressed. “Father will still defend him, if only because of the name he now bares. Which means, we must defend him. And care for him as a Lannister. You would never let another Lannister be treated in the way you’ve treated Tyrion Lannister,” he reminded her.

Cersei breathed heavily, mulling over her brother’s words. She blinked up at her twin. Her sweet, sweet twin. The one who lied with her at night, holding her back from her nightmares. The one who whispered her name so seductively as she touched him. And he was now yelling at her. He never yells. Not at her. “Jaime…” she whispered, her hands grasping at the clothes at her brother’s waist. She pulled him closer, closer, closer. “I’m sorry,” she lied as she lifted her chin up for a kiss.

Jaime sighed, a lovesick sigh. He met his sister’s lips half way.

* * *

Needless to say, both betrothals blew up.

Not only was Princess Sarella politically plotting, Lord Tywin Lannister was as well.

Tywin refused both betrothals, although the match for Jaime and Elia sounded well enough, he would not accept the insult of Princess Sarella bringing up a promise his now dead wife made. Once Joanna died, all of her promises did as well.

Tywin refused Cersei and Oberyn, telling the Dornish ruler that Cersei was made for Prince Rhaegar. He then offered Tyrion for Elia and knew Sarella would feel that snub. A lion will never be ordered by a snake.

If only Tywin knew what a mistake he made in both refusing Sarella’s offers and snubbing the Dornish woman.

If only Elia knew how wrong she was in saying Cersei would always be known as a Lady.

If only.

If only.

If only.

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this in my drafts for a while and finally decided to post it. if you guys like it, i may continue it.
> 
> i'll try to update this as much as i can. i work a full time job often with many overtime hours.


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